The Great 50 Days

I'm so glad that Easter isn't just one day, but instead 50 Great Days of Celebrating Resurrection, because WE STILL HAVEN'T DYED EASTER EGGS!

I know, I know, I'm a terrible mom. And you won't believe me when I tell you that we simply haven't had enough "down time" at home as a family to do it since Holy Week, but it's true. And so I'm very glad that we have several more weeks of Easter in which to dye eggs. Maybe this will even be a great teaching experience (about the Christian year and how it forms us) for little Jed.

The "Jedism" for early Easter, by the way, involves one of the things (in addition to Shrek underwear and Cars magnets and markers) that the Easter Bunny left in his basket on the first day of Easter. It was, of course, some candy--to be shared with Mommy and Daddy. It was two bags of M&M's, one of the peanut variety. Mommy and Daddy love those. We finally opened them about a week ago.

So we were enjoying them, trying to convince our son that the Easter Bunny (who, by the way, comes to leave treats on Easter morning because he wants to spread the joy of the good news that Jesus is alive) thought he would really like Peanut M&M's, too. We wanted him to try them. He just kept making that "skwinchy face" and shaking his head. As he held one skeptically between his thumb and forefinger, we said, "There are peanuts and chocolate inside these M&M's--try it."

He looked unconvinced.

Then he shook it.

Then he said: "I don't hear any peanuts in there."

There was no use in explaining, though I tried after we stopped laughing. He wasn't going to try the M&M.

More for Mommy and Daddy!

And thus we continue to celebrate the fact that our Lord Christ is risen. He is risen indeed!

Maybe we'll even get around to dyeing Easter Eggs eventually in joyful celebration of the empty tomb and the Living Lord.

Alleluia! Happy Easter!

Holy Saturday

We enjoyed two Easter Egg Hunts today on a perfect-weather day for such things.
We laughed, and ate candy and hot dogs, even took a picture with the Easter Bunny.
All the while, I remembered that on this day in 33 a.d., those who loved Jesus were grieving, not laughing around eggs and candy and chips and a bunny in the sunshine.

Today, the cloth on the wooden cross in front of our building is still black. Officially, the Church is still mourning Jesus' death on the cross. But in reality, we're hiding eggs and talking about an empty tomb.

Celebrating Easter while living through the reality of Holy Week is a strange thing. I love the tradition of it all, worshipping through the the story, experiencing it together as a church. But living in the past while knowing the future is a paradox.

Last night, we cried in the dark as we heard and sang of Jesus' betrayal and sacrifice for our salvation.

The night before that, we remembered Jesus' last supper with his friends, and shared in the remembrance meal ourselves as we received the Sacrament of Communion. And then we stripped the church of its accoutrements, down to the bare wood, just as Jesus was stripped of his friends, his clothing, his life.

In all of that, we mourned our part in this story of sacrifice and salvation, the sinfulness for which Jesus died. And we prayed that our sin might die with Christ.

But today we look forward to what comes tomorrow. We already rejoice, because unlike Jesus' first disciples, we know how this story ends. We know that tomorrow, when we go to peer into Jesus' tomb, it will be empty. And we know that because it is, we can and will know Resurrection life with our Lord.

It is the already, and the not yet--
It is the reality of faith and life for those who follow Jesus to the cross and beyond.

Thank God we don't do it alone.
For the Risen Lord helps us.

The Weekend's "Jedism"

Warning: This post is only for those who have an appreciation of bathroom humor.

Yesterday morning at 5:51, my son called me to accompany him to the bathroom.

As he tinkled into the toilet, this conversation occurred:
Him: Is it going into the pot?
Me: Yes, it is, sweetie.
Him: Some people call a potty a pot.
Me: Yes, they do son. Yes, they do.

And thus began my Good Friday.

"Jed-ism" of the Day

My son's nickname was ALMOST "Jed", so I think it's appropriate that I call the funny things he says "Jed-isms" as I share them with you.

Of course, a more appropriate post for Maundy Thursday and Good Friday should be here and is to come (I hope), but for now enjoy a tidbit of our morning:

As "Jed" held up a plastic toy nail from his kids' workbench, he says:
"This is the perfect nail to hang a picture of a dinosaur on the wall."

Our response: "What? Ummmm....no. But good thought!"

Happy "Jack Patricks" Day!

My baby boy is growing up.

I want to remember every fun moment.

It hit me yesterday as he walked (between two sixth-grade girls he adores) down the aisle of my second church, waving a palm branch behind the cross and light of Christ. I was singing "Hosanna, Loud Hosanna" to Christ, but I was also thinking: "He's a big boy now! He's part of the children's Palm Sunday Procession!" And then he continued to stand at the front of the sanctuary as the Children's Choir (with which he's been going to practice) sang their "Hosanna" song. He chose not to sing until after the service, when everyone but a couple of ushers were gone, of course, but he still stood up there!

So, I want to capture every adorable "little kid" moment somehow, and since we no longer keep up the baby book (or rather, my husband has stopped keeping it up, and I never did--terrible mommy!), I thought I'd share with all of you some of the things he's said recently that I want to have on record, so I never forget.

The first is the title of this post. We told him Saint Patrick's Day was coming up, and I gave him a little Irish flag I'd bought, and he started waving it and yelling "Happy Jack Patricks Day! Happy Jack Patricks Day!" I stopped him and made him say "saint," explaining to him that "Saint Patrick" was a great man who loved Jesus and told the people in the country of Ireland how much Jesus loved them, so they would love Jesus, too.

He still says "Happy Jack Patricks Day." Oh well.

Here are some other fun things he's said and done recently. Now remember he just turned 3 in January, but he loves some big words, and he uses them in context. Like this:

"ACTUALLY" (one of his favorite words) "I DO want this/that," after having said he doesn't.

"APPARENTLY" (another one of his favorites) "this train wants to go over here!" as he pushes it along the edge of the table.

"Y'all need to stop giving me this toothpaste, 'cause it hurts my froat." (protesting against my brushing his teeth this morning with his fruity Cars toothpaste)

Another thing he does that I want to remember: He changes the words to common songs, just like his Mommy and Daddy do. For example: "The bear went over the mountain" has become "The bear went over the choo-choo" and so forth...He knows what he's doing. You should hear some of the songs he creates!

And here's a really cute conversation that took place as they pulled away in Daddy's truck one day:

I said "Bye! Be careful!" But my son didn't hear what I said exactly, so as they pulled away he asked "Daddy, what did Mommy say?"

My husband: "She said you're really cute."

My son: "No!"

My husband: "No, you're not really cute?"

My son: "No, I AM, but that's not what she said!"

He's so right. And so big.

Sigh.

So Happy Jack Patricks Day!

Why I Love Bradford Pear Trees

After our marriage, my husband and I decided to plant a tree in the front yard of the parsonage. There were absolutely no trees on the big grassy lawn, and we thought it would be a nice addition, and something to be amazed by when we come back to visit here over the years and note how it has grown.

We talked a while about what kind of tree to buy, and we settled on my favorite yard tree: the Bradford Pear. They're in full bloom right now where we are; everywhere I go, I see them. And finally, after several years, our tree is doing exactly what I love most about these trees: heralding spring and the coming of Easter with branches reaching upward like hundreds of pure white arms praising God against the baby blue sky, while other trees and flowers continue to lie dormant.

When I look at Bradford Pear Trees in their first full bloom, especially on a warm clear day like today, I see resurrection. In the darkest coldest days of Passiontide and Holy Week, I see the promise of what comes on Easter morning. Everywhere, I see these reminders that God has not given up on creation, but instead brings life out of death and beauty from barrenness. I see the purity of God's love and faithfulness revealed in Jesus' life, death, and resurrection.

This coming Sunday we will bring branches of palms, not Bradford Pear blooms, and the Sunday after that we will smell the lilies, but until then...and even through Holy Week...the Bradford Pear trees in bloom all around me will be powerful living reminders, as well. Thank you, God, for all the ways your creation tells your truth.

Yard Burning

My husband tells me that his family used to burn their yard every year, but this is a totally new concept to me. I grew up a suburban girl; he grew up in the country. Now, we live in the town limits of a small rural town. Every night this week as I've driven home, I've smelled smoke. One night last week, the smoke was drifting into our home from the yard being burned across the street. People around here burn their yards before spring arrives, as do many in other rural areas.

I'm told that burning your yard is good for the growth. I'm told that, if you burn the old dead grass, the new grass of spring will have more room to thrive. I'm told that it's the same concept as controlled burns in the forest.

It's an interesting concept as I think of Lent. In our spiritual disciplines, we ask the Holy Spirit Fire to burn away the dead areas of our lives, the things that choke our good growth, the sins that keep us from thriving in Christ. Maybe Lent is like a controlled burn.

If so, I wonder what smoke signals my soul is putting out to let me know it's working. Do you smell anything burning in you? If so, maybe it's a good thing, a God thing. What do you think?